Machines of Love and Grace
by MarshalZhukov
Summary: New girls have found a home and a purpose with the Social Welfare Agency as the older girls lose their humanity. OCs plus cast. Rating may go up with later chapters.
1. Don't You Forget About Me

**I do not own Gunslinger Girl, any of the characters from the show/manga or any other copyrighted material herein.**

**"Don't you forget about me"**

Anya woke that morning in her dorm, lying on the floor. Never certain how or why, Anya simply accepted the fact that, despite tucking herself under the covers, she would always wind up curled into a ball on the floorboards by the ladder leading to the upper bunk. Her hands had been wrapped around her throat again, the scar around her neck tingling with pins and needles.

Stretching out in an attempt to work the soreness out of her joints, Anya then proceeded into a vigorous routine of calisthenics followed by tai chi. Uncertain when or where she learned the art, Anya still found it relaxing; the forms aiding in the use and conditioning of her newly acquired cybernetic implants. She astounded her Handler one afternoon by requesting a jian completely out of the blue.

"Good morning," the voice drifted down from the upper bunk. Anya's roommate Rebecca sat up and had been watching Anya's movements for some time.

"Good morning," Anya replied with a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Sort of," Rebecca said. "I think you had a nightmare again. You kept tossing all night and shook the bed frame."

"I wish I could remember why," Anya scratched her head. "I tell you what. I'll ask Paolo for separate beds to replace the bunk."

Rebecca nodded and hopped from the upper bunk. She landed perfectly on her feet in front of Anya and assumed a crouching silat stance. Obliging her roommate, Anya assumed a down slope tiger stance. Their sparing continued in this manner for twenty minutes until Anya was brought into a submission hold.

"You're getting better," Rebecca complimented. "When you first got here, I had you down in less than five."

"Thanks," Anya said, smiling. "I am learning from the best."

Embarrassed at the praise heaped upon her, Rebecca blushed and looked to the floor. Looking back to Anya, she said:

"I'm hungry. The cafeteria should be open by now."

"Let me get ready," Anya said as her stomach growled in concurrence.

Pulling her long brown hair into a loose ponytail and dressing in a middy blouse and slacks, Anya turned to watch her roommate dress in khaki drills, her short black hair pulled off her face by a head band. The two girls then exited the dormitory and wandered toward the cafeteria.

"…Will you recognize me? Call my name or walk on by…" Anya sang to herself.

Rebecca looked to her roommate with a curious face.

"What is that you're singing?"

Knocked back into the real world, Anya remained silent before answering with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I dunno," she replied. "I get it in the back of my mind every once in a while, but I can't remember where I heard it, when or from who. I don't even remember all the words, but somehow, it reminds me of something that I don't want to forget. Does that make any sense?"

Rebecca thought for a long moment as they continued walking. Rebecca thought the world of her new roommate. Anya was so smart and athletic and mirrored Rebecca very well. They shared similar tastes in music, art appreciation and, of course, martial combat. When Anya was first brought into the Social Welfare Agency, Rebecca took it upon herself to train the new girl in unarmed combat. She wanted Anya to be as good if not better than herself.

Anya, for her part, looked to Rebecca as the older sister she never had…or could not remember. Anya noticed one day the missing pinky on Rebecca's right hand and had point blank asked about it. Rebecca responded cryptically that her missing finger landed her in the "care" of the SWA. Seeing Anya horrified at the answer, Rebecca clarified somewhat that Anya needed to be very careful in whom she trusted and to whom she owed favors.

Breaking her silence, Rebecca glanced toward her younger sister and spoke cheerfully.

"I hope you remember one day."

Anya smiled back and nodded her head.

* * *

The morning following breakfast was devoted to long arms training. Rebecca led Anya onto the rifle range, each with their chosen weapon in their gun bags. Rebecca had chosen as her personal long arm a Yugoslav built M59 SKS. Preferring the permanently attached swing out bayonet, Rebecca could use her close quarter skills to devastating effect. The added bonus of the semi-auto only feature meant that she would not be tempted to unload a full magazine into one or two targets, but could instead carefully place each round into a target of opportunity.

Anya, while still considered new, had yet to choose her primary weapon, but gravitated towards the British developed L85A2. She found that the NATO 5.56mm round produced less kick, and that the bullpup design gave her added accuracy in a carbine length weapon. The bonus of a SUSAT scope simply meant putting the obelisk on the target and pulling the trigger…no complicated optics or hard to use iron sights.

* * *

After taking a bath that afternoon, Anya returned to the dormitory and flopped into her bunk. She wanted to take a short nap after her run through of the MOUT facility and be fresh for language classes that evening. Rebecca had other ideas. Sneaking up on Anya as her eyes began to close, Rebecca threw a bucket of cold water into Anya's bunk. The younger girl screamed and rolled out of her rack, frantically scanning the area for the source of the attack. Seeing Rebecca holding the bucket, Anya reached over, grabbed a sopping wet pillow and tossed it at the older girl. Laughing and easily evading the clumsy attack, Rebecca reminded Anya to always be prepared for sneak attacks.

"You never know when you might be ambushed," Rebecca said between laughing fits. "You should see your face."

"I just got dry from my bath, тупоумно!" Anya shouted.

At that moment a knock at the door drew attention from both girls.

An older girl, maybe mid teens or older with long blonde hair and a somewhat masculine suit entered the room.

"What's this ruckus about?" she asked sternly.

"Rebecca threw water on me while I was trying to sleep, Miss Triela," Anya said.

"I was only training her to be aware at all times," Rebecca rebutted.

"Knock it off," Triela growled. "_Some_ of us are trying to study."

Admonished, Anya and Rebecca apologized for their unruly behavior. Triela scowled slightly then left the room. Anya changed into dry clothes and pulled the bedding. Rebecca offered to help and took the mattress out of the frame and hung it out the window to dry in the midsummer breeze.

* * *

"So much for my nap," Anya grumbled on her way to the laundry. Rounding the corner, she barely avoided colliding with another older cyborg.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Miss Claes," Anya said, lowering her head in respect.

"Have we met?" Claes asked while adjusting her glasses. "You're new here aren't you?"

"We've met several times, Miss Claes. My name is Anya. Don't you remember?"

"It would seem I do not," Claes shrugged. "Oh well, goes with the job, I suppose."

Anya watched Claes wander down the hall in the vague direction of the Agency's library. Anya had heard stories from the older girls about the toll on the mind and body the cyborg procedures and "conditioning" took on everyone in the program. It would seem that Claes was beginning to experience the lapses in short term memory everyone had been warned about.

'Poor girl,' Anya thought, slowly shaking her head. 'But then, am I in any position to comment?'

Pushing such thoughts out of her head, Anya continued her way to the laundry.

**A/N: "Don't You (Forget About Me)" lyrics and title by Simple Minds**


	2. Lux AEterna

**Lux Æterna**

Anya returned to the dormitory an hour later. Opening the door, she was greeted by the strains of "Duetina sull'Aria" from Mozart's Marriage of Figaro. Anya placed the neatly folded stack of bedding on the frame of her bunk. The mattress still hung on the window sill and would not be dry until later that evening. Sitting on the bed frame, Anya closed her eyes and let the voices of the two sopranos wash over her tired mind.

"I really like this piece," Anya said to Rebecca by way of greeting.

Rebecca looked up from the table where she had been performing maintenance on her sidearm, a nickel-plated Beretta 92F with ivory grips.

"It makes me think of two souls who are so absolutely free, they come and go on the wind as they please," Rebecca commented.

She placed the gun carefully on the table, closed her eyes as well and allowed herself to drift into the music.

* * *

Music, sweet pure music, drifted into her conscious mind. The girl opened her eyes to a sea of sterile white all around her. To her left, the collection of monitors recorded every vital sign, beeping, clicking and humming as they went. On her right, a nightstand held a small vase with a single pink carnation, a medium thickness book and a silver-looking pistol. The music came from somewhere in the direction of her feet.

Wincing in pain, the girl tried to sit up, but the newly healing scars across her arms, chest and abdomen made that a losing proposition.

"Ah, you're awake," a voice swam into her ears. "Good. Welcome to the Social Welfare Agency, Rebecca."

'Who's Rebecca?' the girl thought. She looked as far as her vision would allow. As near as she could tell, she was alone, but that did not mean much, as she could not see past her own chest. Footsteps approached the bed. Looking again toward the nightstand, a handsome man in his late thirties came into view. His close cropped black hair was beginning to gray around the temples and his neatly trimmed van dyke showed hints of salting. He wore slightly tinted prescription glasses that perfectly framed his kind, yet intense, green eyes.

The girl looked up at him and smiled weakly. Her smile was returned with genuine warmth. The man introduced himself as David Petruccio and began telling the girl about her new life with The Agency.

"Who's Rebecca," the girl asked faintly. She lifted her head slightly to try and get a better view of this man, David Petruccio.

"You are, my dear," David replied kindly. "From this day on, your name is Rebecca."

"Are you sure?" The girl asked confused. "I don't remember that being my name."

"As I said, from today, your name is now Rebecca."

* * *

"Yoo hoo, Earth to Rebecca."

Anya snapped her fingers close to Rebecca's ear. Stunned back into the real world, Rebecca stared diffusely at Anya. Slowly, consciousness dawned as she remembered where she was.

"You okay there?" Anya asked. Not for the first time had Rebecca slipped into this sort of fugue. Anya, though familiar with these lapses from Rebecca, would never understand them. It meant life or death to remain focused on the here and now. Stories of girls or their Handlers getting hurt or killed because of a lapse in focus played in Anya's mind.

"Sorry about that," Rebecca apologized. "Listening to this music brought me back to the time I first woke up in the hospital after coming here."

"Good memories?" Anya asked as she sat at the table opposite Rebecca.

"Couldn't say for sure," Rebecca mused. "If I try and focus on them, I can't recall anything, but if I just drift away, everything comes back clearly."

Rebecca stood up, walked over to the stereo and switched it off.

"I can't remember anything from before I came here, either," Anya comforted. "Maybe it's just as well." She rubbed the scar wrapping the base of her neck as it twinged slightly. It bothered her that she could not recall when or how she got it, she just knew she had it when she woke up in the hospital. It had something to do with her nightmares, or at least she thought it did.

Letting her hands fall back to her sides, Anya decided that there were more pressing engagements.

"We had better get ready," she said to Rebecca, standing up. "Class will be starting shortly."

**A/N: I chose this title from another Mozart piece called Lux Æterna meaning Light Eternal from his Requiem.**


	3. Something About us

**"Something About Us"**

Two men stopped Anya and Rebecca on their way from the classroom; David Petruccio and Paolo Laroni. Paolo was slightly taller and younger than David, clean shaven and with a mop of brown hair nearly covering his eyes.

"Paolo, Mister Petruccio, good evening," Anya said. Rebecca reflexively bowed to the two men.

David smiled while Paolo merely nodded recognition.

"We are going out tomorrow, Anya," Paolo said in a matter of fact voice. "We are pairing off with Giuse's fratello."

Rebecca turned and gave Anya a big hug.

"Your first assignment! Congratulations!"

"I-I don't know what to say," Anya stuttered. "I thank you for the opportunity. I will absolutely do my best."

"Yeah, well," Paolo began. "This won't be anything huge. We are tagging along on a protection detail. All we need to do is observe and report. Giuse and Henrietta will be doing all the heavy lifting."

"Still, to be going out after only a few weeks, I'm flattered that you think so highly of me so soon," Anya pressed.

Paolo suppressed a smile. He was too much like his brother in law. David spoiled Rebecca as well. Still, it was nice to see Anya smiling…and far and away better than having her gun at the back of his head.

"Alright, alright," Paolo waved off Anya's fawning. "We need you bright tomorrow, so get some sleep. Make sure your equipment is good to go."

"What should I take?" Anya asked.

"Take your Enfield," Paolo said. "Wear a light duster or something to conceal it. And comfortable shoes, we can expect to do a lot of walking."

Anya smiled and nodded. David and Paolo continued down the hall, until Paolo stopped and called out to Anya.

"I almost forgot," he said as he handed her a small hard-side pistol case and a canvas shoulder bag. "A gift for your first field assignment."

Anya took the case into her embrace, thanked Paolo profusely once more and left with Rebecca to their dormitory.

* * *

"Do you think we spoil the girls?" David asked, as the two men walked toward the briefing room.

"No more than any normal family, I suppose," Paolo responded. "Speaking of family, how is my sister doing these days?"

"Patricia is doing very well," David said, blushing faintly. "She'll be entering her third trimester this coming week."

"That's good to hear," Paolo said. "I hope it's a boy."

"I think Patricia will be happy just to have the whole thing over and done with," David laughed. "She blames me for everything these days.

"As well she should," Paolo laughed in return. "Laroni women are not to be trifled with."

"I am finding out the hard way, bro, believe me."

Paolo let his laughter peter out before turning to David once more.

"You still into that one show from Japan?"

David cocked an eyebrow.

"Which one?"

"That one you named Rebecca from," Paolo said. "Don't think I don't know about that. The 92F was a dead give-away."

"Oh…that," David said blushing again. "Seemed fitting somehow, you know?"

"I still don't understand you," Paolo sighed. "Oh well, at least you don't make her use two pistols at once."

"That actually crossed my mind," David said, a sly grin on his face. "It proved too impractical though."

Paolo stared at his bother in law.

"Are you serious? You actually tried it?"

"Once," David said. "We couldn't work out the reload, so it's just the one Beretta now."

"I'm surprised that gun doesn't have a jolly roger on it."

"Too obvious," David replied.

"I am beginning to wonder about that…" Paolo said.

"What did you give Anya?" David asked, changing the subject.

"Huh? Oh a Walther P99 in .40cal. Small, but packs a punch."

"Nice choice, bro."

Paolo nodded as the two men continued into the briefing room in silence.

* * *

In their dormitory, Anya and Rebecca squealed and danced about excitedly. This was Anya's first go at a real assignment. Rebecca began to regale her with tales of her past assignments, all the adventures and dangers and excitement that came along.

Their joyous celebration spent, Anya sat at the table, a serene look on her face. Rebecca joined her promptly.

"It doesn't bother you?" Rebecca asked. "That you'll have to kill someone one day?"

Anya shook her head slowly.

"I know it should, but I don't really feel about it one way or the other, to tell the truth."

Anya let herself stare off into space for a moment.

"I have to believe it's for the greater good," she continued. "At least that's what Paolo says and I believe in Paolo. So there it is."

Rebecca smiled kindly at Anya.

"That's a good attitude to have, little sister. Keep thinking like that and you'll have nothing to worry about."

**A/N yes yes, gratuitous use of another anime. If you know the reference kudos to you, if not…go check out Black Lagoon, either the manga or the anime. Both are out in the States. Go have fun with it.**


	4. Damaged People

**"Damaged People"**

Giuse stepped out of his dormitory to find Henrietta waiting patiently in the hall. At once, Giuse noticed something amiss. While Henrietta still smiled at him, the warmth and kindness in her eyes were fading with each passing day. Henrietta had already forgotten the trips to Sicily and all the good times they had together. He found her diary in the rubbish bin one afternoon as he was taking out his own trash. Retrieving it, he flipped to the last few entries. The ink had been blotted in places with something wet. What was legible spoke of a soul in torment over not remembering anything written previously, as though the author wrote each entry unaware of what had come before.

Giuse at once felt sorry for his fratello. He knew it would not be long before Henrietta would have to be "retired". He wanted to take her out for one last adventure before the end, even though he knew, deep down, she would not remember any of it the next day. Giuse had petitioned the Section chief and had his permission to be the one to "retire" Henrietta.

Henrietta looked up at Giuse, a mildly concerned look on her face.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

Giuse closed his eyes as a single tear made good its escape. Brushing it off his face, he opened his eyes and looked down towards his soon to be former charge.

"Nothing to worry about, Henrietta," he lied, smiling weakly. "Everything is fine. I just bit the inside of my cheek is all."

This was the first time Henrietta had ever called him sir. They had been on a first name basis for so long, he simply came to expect to be called by his name that morning. It would not be long now, a matter of weeks at the most. Angelica had been "retired" earlier that spring. Claes was already in decline and Triela would not be far behind. Now his beloved Henrietta had joined them.

Pushing these thoughts out of his head, Giuse spoke to Henrietta.

"We are meeting with one of the new fratello today and we want to make a good impression, okay?"

Henrietta nodded serenely. She fell into step behind Giuse, her violin case in her left hand. She looked very smart in her blazer uniform and loafers, just like a normal school girl. Giuse shook his head again. No, Henrietta was not normal, not in the least. Normal school girls are not reborn as cyborgs and trained to kill. Normal school girls have long lives ahead of them, boyfriends, jobs, husbands, children of their own. Normal school girls do not carry around high powered sub-machine guns and pistols as part of their education. Normal school girls are not "retired" at the hands of the adult who had trained them to kill. Henrietta was in no way a normal school girl, and soon she would cease to exist at all.

Maybe Jean was right after all. He kept a cool and professional distance from Rico and so did not seem affected by her decline. Giuse began to question his attachment to someone so fragile, so trusting and ultimately doomed.

They met up with Paolo and Anya in the courtyard near Claes' vegetable garden. It had gone to weed of late as Claes had forgotten she was the one who had planted it in memory of Raballo. Henrietta looked over to the withered tomato plants and mentioned something to the effect of someone having planted it but did not know who or for what reason.

Anya looked nervous as she fidgeted with her poncho. Not in possession of an actual duster or long jacket, she had substituted the poncho Paolo had given her upon release to the Agency. The canvas bag over her shoulder had contained a shoulder holster and two spare mag pouches with magazines for the P99. The pistol, rig and her L85A2 safely concealed under the poncho, the shoulder bad held several rifle mags stagger taped together to prevent rattle.

Anya peered over to Henrietta who simply gazed at the vegetable patch. Walking over, Anya held out her hand and politely introduced herself. Henrietta looked at Anya unblinking. A second later, she cautiously took Anya's hand and smiled wanly.

Paolo and Giuse watched the two girls interact from a few meters away. Giuse made no effort to hide his sadness from Paolo.

"She isn't long now," Giuse sighed. "Maybe to the end of the month, if she's lucky."

Paolo said nothing. He could see all he needed to know in the pained expression on Giuse's face. This was to be Anya's fate and Rebecca's as well. All the girls brought into Section Two faced the same fate.

Coughing gently to gain Giuse's attention, Paolo produced the file on that day's mission. An influential Senatore from the North who opposed secession was due in Rome that afternoon. Giuse and Paolo were to provide armed escort into the Parliament building. Giuse and Henrietta would provide personal protection while Paolo and Anya would flank in reserve. The two men checked their radio earwigs, their pistols and then fixed their ties. Giuse called out to the two girls. Anya came bounding over, excited as a kid on her first day at school. Henrietta followed at a slower pace and caught up with the group a few moments later. The four of them then piled into an Agency Benz and drove off into the city.

**A/N: "Damaged People" from Playing the Angel, by Depeche Mode**


	5. Tear Drops to Earth

**"Tear Drops to Earth"**

On schedule, Senatore Di Luca's car pulled into the private lot assigned to members of the Italian government. Walking at a calm speed and with identifications in plain view, Giuse and Paolo approached the Senatore's car.

Di Luca stepped out, his personal guard waving the two men over to get a closer look at their credentials. Satisfied, he led them to the Senatore.

"Senatore Di Luca," Giuse spoke. "My name is Giuse Croce and this is my partner Paolo Laroni. We have been assigned by the Prime Minister's office to escort you into Parliament today."

Di Luca smiled at the two men. He then glanced over their shoulders to gaze upon the two young girls waiting by their car.

"Are they part of this detail also?" he asked, gesturing to Henrietta and Anya.

"Yes sir, they are," Paolo spoke.

"Ah, I think I am beginning to see," Di Luca said, a smile playing on his lips. "You two are with Section Two of the Social Welfare Agency, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Giuse echoed Paolo. "Henrietta, Anya, come over here and meet the Senatore."

The two did as commanded. Anya smiled and proffered her hand while introducing herself. Henrietta instead shyly nodded to the Senatore and immediately began scanning the parking lot and surrounding area.

"We should get in under cover, gentlemen," she said politely. "It is too open out here. Too many possible sniper nests."

"She is the expert," Di Luca chuckled. "Gentlemen, bambini, shall we?"

Much to everyone's shock and dismay, that day found the building full of tour groups, students of government and architecture and others milling about. Giuse and Paolo began desperately scanning for a clear route into the Senate chambers, while Henrietta and Anya scanned the crowd for anyone showing undue interest in their group.

They made it about halfway along a back wall, when a voice from the crowd shouted out Di Luca's name. Henrietta's violin case immediately dropped open, revealing her FN P90. Anya reached under her poncho and grabbed the first thing available, her Walther P99. A young man, maybe mid twenties wearing a light jacket and ball cap waded through the crowd toward Di Luca and his entourage.

"Henrietta," Giuse whispered into her ear. "Hold your fire until there is a clear danger.

Henrietta nodded in acknowledgment of the order. She trained her gun sights onto the approaching young man, but kept her finger off the trigger. Watching Henrietta from the corner of her eye, Anya followed suit.

Within seconds, a panicked shout of "Gun!" echoed throughout the hall. Civilians scrambled to get out of the way while Capitol police frantically searched the area for any sign of the alleged weapon. At that moment, the young man reached the Senatore, unzipping his jacket revealing a vest of explosives.

"Padanian Independence Now!" he shouted as he lifted the detonator to eye level.

Henrietta jumped onto the bomber as the explosive detonated, sheltering Giuse, Paolo and the Senatore. Anya and the Senatore's own guard fared less favorably.

* * *

Anya woke in the hospital after an undetermined amount of time unconscious. Her eyes fluttered open as she moved her head stiffly from right to left. They came to rest on Paolo Laroni asleep in a chair next to her bed.

On the night stand to her right, a vase holding daffodils, several get well cards and a copy of Orwell's Animal Farm. Reaching painfully to the nightstand, she retrieved the get well cards. One from Rebecca read:

"Get well soon! I miss my roomie and sparring partner." a cute smiley face drawn in a corner.

Another from David:

"When you are feeling better, let me know."

The third from Paolo:

"Get well soon, kiddo" and "P.S. I hope you like the book. I wasn't sure, so I asked Rebecca."

The last from the Senatore:

"I am forever in your debt for saving my life, young lady. Anytime you need anything, don't hesitate to call. Giorgio."

A rustling to her left drew her attention. Anya turned to face Paolo as he woke up.

"Welcome back, kiddo," he smiled at her. "We were beginning to worry. Been almost three weeks."

"Three…weeks…?"

"Yeah. You had us in a tizzy. David and I weren't sure if you were ever going to wake up."

"My…head hurts."

"You got your bell rung pretty hard in the blast."

"Did Giuse and Henrietta make it?"

Paolo hung his head. He did not want to look at her and tell her that they scraped Henrietta off the walls with a putty knife. Giuse was still laid up with several broken bones and a severe concussion. Paolo himself did not escape unscathed, as he had several burns across his face, and his left arm in a sling. The Senatore, buried as he was under several body guards, escaped with minor cuts, scrapes and bruises. His body guard died from shrapnel entering his brain a week after.

"Giuse will be fine," Paolo started to say. "Henrietta…"

"She didn't make it, did she?"

Paolo shook his head.

Anya turned her head to face the ceiling.

"All part of the job," she said finally. "And she was going to die soon, anyway. Wasn't she?"

Paolo stood up, looked upon Anya's form and smiled faintly.

"Get well, soon, kiddo."

He then took his leave and left Anya to her thoughts.

**A/N: Well that was a bummer, but we all knew it had to end somehow, so why not in a blaze of glory, right? BTW, the chapter title comes from the Black Lagoon soundtrack and is performed by Edison.**


	6. The World of Midnight

**"The World of Midnight"**

Anya's sleep was troubled that night. Having regained consciousness, the morphine drip had been scaled back then removed.

Images swam into her subconscious, sleeping mind; people and places long forgotten and washed from her waking mind. She saw a sunlit terrace overlooking the sea, a smiling couple holding out their hands to the two children exiting the house. The mother grasping the little girl into her lap, the father playfully tousling the boy's hair. Splendid isolation completed the idyllic image. Trees surrounded everything as far as the eye could see.

There was a picnic on the table, fruit and juices galore and roasted veal in the center.

This bucolic scene interrupted by armed, masked men wearing camouflage storming into the house. The table upset, the children screaming and crying. The father was tied to the chair and forced to watch as the mother was violated repeatedly. He claimed complete innocence to whatever the men accused him of. The mother was then doused in fuel. Again the father pleaded innocence and begged for the mother's life.

Too late.

The mother's screams filled the air and the father cried out in anguish.

Now the boy was brought to the terrace and forced to sit in the mother's ashes. Again the father pleaded innocence and begged for his son's life. Fingers were cut off one by one and the father repeatedly professed no knowledge to the men's questioning and the boy too doused in fuel and set alight.

Now the girl was brought out and forced to sit in the ashes of her family. By now the father had swallowed his own tongue, foaming at the mouth he collapsed. The men kicked him, clubbed him with their guns and finally shot him.

The girl was taken into the great room, stripped naked and violated repeatedly by all the men, some twice. Something cold and sharp was brought to her throat and slid oh so deliciously, oh so easily into her flesh. There was no pain, only the choking and then drowning sensation as the girl struggled to empty her lungs of blood and replace it with air.

Something caught the men's attention, for they gathered their equipment and fled. The last thing the girl remembered was curling into a tight ball, clutching at her throat, desperate for air as the police and EMTs arrived and desperately fought to save this young life as it spilled out and stained the hardwood flooring.

**A/N: I think there is something wrong with my head. Chapter Four took two hours between crying jags and general melancholy. I then sit down and write out this violent and rather gruesome image filled chapter in twenty minutes, including a potty break. I think I may need a shrink…or a stiff drink.**  
**The title is a song sung by Minako Obata, also to be found on the Black Lagoon OST.  
I am also putting this story on hiatus until I can work out where I want to go from here.  
**


	7. Interlude

**Interlude.**

I feel I must apologize for the interruption. I had to take time away from this story to put my head back on straight and gather my forces once again as well as finish off "Comrades in DEADs" for the High School of the DEAD section. I realize that is not much of an excuse, but this story is really taking a toll on me emotionally because I know that every one of these girls is doomed to some tragic fate…it is oh so Greek.

Okay, I think I know where I am going with my storyline. I am going to split up the two sub arcs, one for Anya and one for Rebecca, so that I can focus on each one and develop their characters in depth before bringing them back into one arc.

Plus it allows me to cover Rebecca's back story a bit more while Anya is in a coma.

With perseverance and no small amount of good fortune, I should have more chapters up soon.

Right, on with the show, yes?


	8. Easy Target

**A/N: okay, as promised, the "Rebecca Arc". Remember this takes place during Anya's stay in hospital right after the suicide bombing incident at the Parliament building.**

**"Easy Target"**

A light knocking on the door drew Rebecca from her studies. While she found the language difficult, she knew that French could eventually prove useful, especially as the Padanian Front had been known to operate out of French strongholds along the Italian border. She had also been distracted by Anya's absence. Two days laid up and still no change in her condition.

"Coming," she said as she approached the door. Opening it, she found David Petruccio on the other side.

Rebecca gave him a grand smile, bowed politely and invited him in. David stepped over the threshold, stacking a long weapons bag against the frame. He sat at the table as she offered to make him some tea. Declining her offer politely, he nodded his head toward the gun bag and produced a slim book and manila folder from a briefcase.

"U.S. Army Sniper and Fieldcraft Training Manual" Rebecca read off the book's title. "What's this about?"

"I want you to get good at this," David said, tapping the manual. "In the next month or so, the two of us along with Jean and Rico are going to cross into France and observe the activities of the Padanian organization. That means we need to get in, set up shop and spy all without being seen."

Rebecca cocked an eyebrow.

"What does this book have to do with infiltration?"

"Once we get there, we want to remain invisible. Their training base is outside civilization, in the hills; thus camouflage and fieldcraft are essential."

Rebecca though for a moment before turning her attention to the rifle bag by the door.

"I assume that's for me?" A smile crossed her face.

"If you want to use it," David said. "Otherwise, I'll shoot and you spot. Go ahead and take a look."

Rebecca crossed the room and picked up the bag.

"It's heavy," she commented. Returning to the table, she laid the bag on the surface and unzipped it. The bag revealed its contents to be a Springfield Armory M1903 in .30-06cal with a specially fitted suppressor. Rebecca noted that the weapon had no iron sights and so guessed this weapon was set up as a sniper/marksman rifle. She searched the bag and found, as predicted, the scope and its claw mounts. She cooed over the weapon as she drew the bolt back. Sighting through the bolt down the bore, Rebecca barely contained her joy.

"I'll take it!" she cried out. "It's absolutely beautiful."

"Good," David smiled. "Take a few days and go over that manual and the surveillance photos of the area in the folder. I want you to learn to be invisible."

Rebecca hugged the weapon to her chest, gingerly placed it back on the table then hugged David. Somewhat taken aback, David returned the gesture.

"Don't forget your other studies," David said, gesturing to her French textbook. "This will come in handy also."

Rebecca smiled and confidently predicted she would not fail.

David smiled, excused himself and left.

Left alone in the empty room, Rebeca's thoughts turned back to Anya.

**A/N: I realize I am breaking an unwritten tradition in Gunslinger Girl fan fic-dom concerning the use of rare/unusual guns and the like by introducing a Springfield M1903. Point of fact, Rebecca's rifle is an M1903A4. True, the M1903 was phased out of service as a military rifle by the end of WWII, but Springfield Armory continues to produce the weapon for the civilian sporting market and the .30-06 is _the_ most popular long rifle round in the US, making it and the rifle very easy to acquire and use. Further, US snipers and marksmen from WWI through Vietnam preferred using it because it is a very rugged and reliable rifle. Plus, we can't all have the rarest and most exotic. Sometimes it is the commonplace that makes all the difference.  
**


	9. Always, Forever Now

**"Always Forever Now"**

By now, Rebecca was in a state. It had been nearly two weeks since they brought Anya into the hospital. Rebecca had gone to see her on several occasions, even left a get well card. She noticed that David had left one as well. The person Rebecca felt most sorry for was Paolo. Night after night, he could be seen asleep in a chair by her bed side. Occasionally, he would whisper words of encouragement; usually he just sat there, holding her hand. Senatore di Luca even stopped by and offered his words of hope and left his own get well card.

The other handlers thought that unusually devoted, some said bordering on obsession. Jean and Marco came in and told him he needed to accept the fact that Anya would die soon anyway and it was not healthy to become too attached to a tool. Marco assured him of this through his own experience. Paolo would wave them all off, saying he was only concerned for her welfare and wished her a speedy recovery.

Rebecca came by one evening after classes and ran into Paolo on his way to the infirmary.

"What kind of books does Anya like to read?" He asked her suddenly.

Caught flat-footed, Rebecca could only remark on what she had seen in the Agency library.

"I saw her looking over something called Animal Farm one afternoon," she replied.

Paolo nodded his head, then turned and walked swiftly toward the entrance lobby.

'What was that about?' she thought to herself. Regaining her earlier train of thought, Rebecca continued on her way to see Anya.

* * *

There had been no change for nearly two weeks. Dr. Bianchi despaired of her recovering soon, if at all. The Chief was on his case to let Anya go and pair Paolo with another girl recently brought in.

"All her vitals are good," Bianchi protested. "She just needs something that will snap her back to reality."

"Make it happen soon," the Chief warned. "The government is not paying us to keep an invalid on life support."

"Give me one more week," Bianchi practically begged. He secretly hoped that Anya would wake before then. He did not want to have to break the news to Paolo or Rebecca.

"One week," the Chief reluctantly agreed. "Then terminate her."

Bianchi visibly winced at the use of the word 'terminate.' He, like several of the handlers, had come to see the girls as more than mere tools, machines. They were living, breathing, feeling people with souls and emotions…just like himself. It pained him to watch Cleas experimented on like a guinea pig; to watch her deteriorate into a collection of parts and experiences.

Bianchi nodded his head in resignation. He had no choice but to accept the Chief's ultimatum. He knew, in the rational, scientific part of his brain, that the Chief had to answer to the budget oversight committee - and the Prime Minister. The Chief was under pressure to maintain and deliver consistent results. Bianchi understood the position the Chief found himself in. That still did not assuage the feeling, caring part of his brain; the part that screamed out in agony every time he watched another girl succumb to the final effects of the cyborgization and "conditioning". He had been witness to too many for his tastes and had been seriously considering retiring into private practice.

But, he had been granted a temporary reprieve with Anya, and he resolved to take full advantage of it.

* * *

Rebecca stopped him in the hall outside of Anya's room.

Good evening, Doctor," Rebecca said with a bow. "Any news?"

Bianchi carefully considered what he would say to the twelve year old in front of him. He did not want to tell her his fears as he knew how attached Rebecca had become to her "little sister." At the same time, he knew that Rebecca, the clever girl she was, would figure out sooner or later that all was not right in the world.

"Nothing really to tell you, Rebecca," he said finally. "Her vitals are all strong, but she just doesn't seem to want to wake up."

Rebecca's face fell at hearing the news. She also knew what that would mean; the Agency would have to "let her go."

"May I see her?"

Bianchi smiled.

"Of course you may. Go right on in."

Rebecca took the seat usually occupied by Paolo. She rubbed the stump of her right pinky finger absent-mindedly. At once she felt sorry and relieved for Anya. Sorry that her first ten years were taken away, yet relieved that whatever had given Anya that scar on her throat did not pursue her into the waking world. Secretly, Rebecca envied that of Anya. She too wished she could forget the laughter, the sickening pleasure derived from her screams as the kyodai cut her finger off with his tanto. She clearly saw her father's face, grimly set against showing any emotion; profusely bowing, apologizing and promising over and over to remain loyal to the kumi. Her mother distracted by lower level gangsters to prevent her coming to Rebecca's aid. _That _part she wished to forget.

No amount of "conditioning" to this point had been able to erase the hurt and fury she let smolder in her heart.

Rebecca had no desire to leave her old life behind; not entirely. She had been given the option to replace her missing finger, but lied and told the surgeons it had educational value. She explained that another serious mistake would cost much more than merely a finger. In truth, she did not _want _to forget that her parents sacrificed their child for their own comfort and safety. Her anger at them gave her focus to hunt down and kill without mercy those who would sacrifice others for political gain.

Rebecca returned to the here and know and began humming the tune Anya always had on her mind.

"...Rain keeps fallin' Rain keeps fallin' down, down, down."

She resolved then and there to find out who sang it and give Anya a copy of the recording when she woke up.

"I promise, little sister. I won't let you down, but you gotta wake up soon."

**A/N: A bit of Rebecca's back story revealed. A kyodai is a yakuza sub-lieutenant and a kumi is a group or family.**** The chapter title comes from U2, from the Passengers Soundtracks album. The lyrics; "rain keeps fallin' etc." are from "Don't you (Forget about me)" by Simple Minds. **


	10. As Close as You Think

**"As Close as You Think"**

Rebecca heard the faint knock at the dormitory door. Rolling out of her bunk, she landed perfectly on her feet. Padding over, she opened the door to reveal David Petruccio. Bowing respectfully, she bade him sit at the table.

"I got the word from the Chief," he said confidently, politely declining tea. "We leave tomorrow. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I will ever be, I guess," Rebecca hesitated. "I still don't like leaving while Anya is in the hospital. What if…"

"Have you said your farewells?"

"Not yet…"

"I'll wait here until you get back," David smiled. "But you better hurry."

With a Cheshire Cat smile, Rebecca bowed swiftly and hustled out of the room.

Nearly running into Dr Bianchi and flattening him in her haste, she slipped past him with the ease and grace of a predatory cat.

"I am leaving for France," she huffed at Anya as she sat in the chair. "I am not sure when I'll be back but I wanted to say…"

Tears welled in Rebecca's eyes. She had never been good at goodbyes, and seeing her best friend in the whole world lying in a coma was simply too much. Rebecca burst into a flood and fled the room.

David held Rebecca as she let all her pain flow in a torrent of tears. She cursed her life, the bomber who landed Anya in the infirmary, the Agency, her parents, the Shinwagumi, , Fate.

David continued to hold her until she expended her fury and sat quietly at the table.

"Feeling better?"

Rebecca nodded meekly.

"Do you think you are ready to go over our infiltration plans.

Another nod.

"Good. As I said, we leave tomorrow."

Jean and Rico were to take the point on infiltration. Both had been thoroughly briefed and trained in camouflage and concealment as well. Rico had been training with Rebecca the last week on tandem shooting, and the pair became comfortable working as a team. David and Jean would work with both fratello as the spotters and relief shooters. Infiltration was to begin shortly before 4am, a few hours before sunrise; their fox hole prepared and provisioned in advance.

Rebecca stood from the table and dragged the heavy duffel from the armoire. She lay it by the door next to her M1903. David stood, offered his heartfelt wishes that Anya would be waiting when they returned. Rebecca smiled weakly, escorted David out and collapsed into Anya's vacant bunk and promptly fell asleep.

**A/N: short chapter and I am not sure if I am happy with it. Oh Well. BTW: Shinwagumi translates into New (Shin) Japan (Wa) Group (Gumi). The song title is from ...An Evening with Skankin' Pickle. The whole album is all groove and ska, totally out of synch with the tone of the story, but the title just stood out for the hope tinged with sadness and frustration of this chapter. Anyway, I hope you like it.**  
**And a shout out to Zarien who took the time to review my story. Thank You Much!**


	11. Who Wants to Live Forever

**"Who Wants to Live Forever"**

Rebecca had been eyeing one particular target for some minutes. David had pointed him out earlier that day as a person of interest, but gave strict instructions not to shoot until ordered. Rebecca obeyed seemingly without question and continued to watch the man through her scope as he sat in the shade of a large olive tree.

Jean and Rico, in another foxhole some meters away, had been in constant radio contact. The Prime Minister forwarded his specific instructions to observe the operations of this hive without drawing the attentions of the French government.

"Why are we sitting here watching," Rebecca questioned. "We should be shooting. For six days, all we've done is watch and wait."

"We don't want to draw attention to ourselves," David explained. "That's why we are hiding out in these foxholes."

"If these people disappeared, how would that be a bad thing?"

"For us, it would not be bad," David said. "For the Italian government, if we were discovered to have been here and shot these men, it would be an international incident and possibly lead to escalation."

Rebecca remained quiet and motionless for a few minutes, still watching her target.

"I wouldn't mind," she said without emotion. David turned to stare at her.

"Have you any idea what you are saying?"

Rebecca nodded behind her scope.

"Who wants to live forever?" she asked. "I would rather die in battle than in my sleep."

David sat in complete shock. This was truly a first for his cyborg…for any cyborg. This was dangerous territory Rebecca just crossed into. While it was expected that some free will would be retained, the idea of openly expressing the desire for armed combat above and beyond assassinations and search and destroy missions was simply beyond the Pale. The Agency tried to prevent open war by conducting these shadow operations and targeted killings. Rebecca, by her own admission, just advocated such an open war.

"Does that bother you?"

Rebecca's words shocked David back into the here and now.

"If my thoughts and actions concern you," Rebecca pressed, "please let me know, and I will be your killer doll instead."

David's jaw hung slack. He had absolutely no response to anything Rebecca had just said.

"Incoming," she said.

In the valley below, the man she had been watching stood and greeted another group who just arrived. The radio came alive with Jean's voice.

"We have unidentified persons entering the compound. Three men and one woman."

David returned his attention to the radio.

"Copy, three men and one woman. Instructions are to continue observation."

Rebecca caressed the trigger of her weapon. Her will demanded squeezing the round off, her "conditioning" restrained her. David, in a sidelong glance, saw her trigger finger "itch". He laid his hand on her shoulder and gave it a slight comforting squeeze. Reassured, Rebecca relaxed her hold on the trigger and moved her hand to steady the butt-stock against her shoulder.

By mid afternoon, the summer sun blazed overhead and both foxhole occupants were drenched in sweat. The camouflage that concealed them trapped their body heat and turned their hole into a sauna. Rebecca pulled on the tube from her CamelBak™ to slake her thirst. David drained one of his many canteens then offered to refill Rebecca's water bladder. The radio came back to life.

"We have word from the Prime Minister," Jean said. "He has the unofficial authorization from the French President to carry out our primary mission. Terminate all targets with extreme prejudice."

Rebecca smiled with sadistic pleasure at the command to open fire. She gently squeezed the M1903's trigger and watched her primary target's head explode like a watermelon. Her sensitive ears could make out the muffled sound of Rico's suppressed SVD as she chose her targets of opportunity. Chambering a second round, Rebecca zeroed in on the woman she found hiding behind a parked car. The body slumped forward with the impact of the round penetrating her neck.

Rico's advantage in ammunition capacity and semi-auto fire evened out against Rebecca's supreme accuracy. Jean had to remind Rico several times that one round per target was all that was necessary. Rebecca simply took her time lining her target's heads into her crosshairs. David was awed and slightly frightened at Rebecca's skill with her weapon. Rebecca's ever present slasher smile unnerved David to no end. He had to wonder if he had, unwittingly, chosen just the right name for his gun girl.

"I trained to use a semi-auto at both close and medium distance," Rebecca explained spontaneously, as her fifth round found home. "It taught me to be very precise in when and how I shoot."

Rebecca slid another five round stripper clip into her M1903 and threw the bolt home. The last of the compound defenders met his end firing blindly into the hills opposite of the two fratello.

"Let's go make sure," Jean radioed.

David gathered his weapon, a relic of the Second World War. He had been the butt of many jokes for choosing the PPSh-41 until he proved them all wrong with the sheer weight of lead and surprising lack of jamming the crude, ancient weapon produced. Locking a box magazine into place, he threw open the bolt and slouched out of the hole.

Rebecca fixed the bayonet on her SKS in place and followed David out of the hole.

Jean and Rico approached the compound from the north-east while David and Rebecca approached from the south-west. Linking up in the courtyard, the four of them began a thorough sweep of the interior.

Meeting back up in the courtyard after the sun had set, Jean, Rico and David reported no contacts. Rebecca approached from the deepening shadows within the house a few minutes later, the SKS bayonet dripping with blood.

"One last target, hiding in the wine cellar," she said flatly. "Terminated."

Her eyes, though dull, reflected a glint of satisfaction while a trace of a smile remained on her lips.

"Let's go home," Jean said.

**A/N: I hope I made up for my faux pas with the M1903 by introducing the PPSh. Pronounced peh-peh-shah, this was the weapon that won back Stalingrad in 1943 for the Soviets. The title "Who Wants to Live Forever" is performed by Queen.**


	12. At the Heart of it All

**"At The Heart of it All"**

The nurses and doctors ran into the room and found Anya on the floor, curled into a tight ball, clutching at her throat. The machines she had been attached to, disconnected and strewn about the room, all sounded their alarms. Dr Bianchi carefully lifted the now fully awake Anya into the bed and tucked her in. The nurses and technicians re-attached the probes, re-inserted needles and set the anti-roll bars to keep her in place.

Startled by all the attention, Anya began to cry. Dr Bianchi tried his best to soothe the girl, but ultimately to no avail. Paolo was called up and he arrived a few minutes later. Anya reached out and clung to him as if he were her father, all the while blubbering in a language he did not understand, until he heard the one word he did:

"Nyet!"

Anya had been pleading in Russian for someone to stop. Dr Bianchi whispered into Paolo's ear to see him once Anya had calmed down.

Eventually, Anya cried herself back to sleep and her grip on Paolo relaxed. He joined Dr Bianchi in the hall a few moments later.

"According to her roommate, Rebecca, this has been going on since she arrived," Dr Bianchi said.

"Any ideas?" Paolo asked out of desperation. He did not like where this could go.

"Near as I can tell, this girl had a similar experience to what Henrietta underwent before she was brought in. However, Anya was brought in and conditioned immediately without any sort of evaluation."

"What do you mean, similar to Henrietta?"

"According to her files, Anya - or Sofia Ilyanova Petrov as she was known – watched her family tortured, violated and murdered before the same fate befell her. Indications are it was the Russian Mafia attempting to infiltrate Italy."

"Did her former family have any connection to the Russians?"

"Other than a case of mistaken identity, no." Dr Bianchi closed his eyes. Paolo stared off into space as the information settled upon his sleep addled brain. He checked his watch, after 3am.

"Tsk, it's too early for this," he told Bianchi. "Can she be released?"

"Well, yes and no," he replied. "Physically, there is nothing wrong with her, but emotionally she is too fragile to be left unattended...unless…"

Paolo knew that the suggestion of further conditioning would be mentioned.

"Release her into my custody," Paolo said abruptly, cutting Bianchi off. Dr Bianchi stared at Paolo.

"That would be most irregular…" he trailed off.

"Anya and all the other girls are most irregular," Paolo replied, sleep creeping back into his voice. "That girl needs someone to cling to right now and apparently I'm it."

Dr Bianchi thought long and hard before relenting. He signed off several forms and forwarded his recommendation that Anya be placed on the inactive list for observation.

Paolo returned to the hospital room and gently woke Anya. In panic she attempted to flee, but immediately calmed down once she realized it was Paolo. He handed her his jacket and took her back to his dormitory. Fixing a place on the sofa for himself, he put Anya to sleep in his bed.

* * *

Morning broke several hours later. Paolo groaned under an uncomfortable weight. He shifted his line of sight to discover Anya curled in a ball, asleep on his chest. Gently waking her for the second time, Anya turned her sleepy gaze to Paolo and smiled gently at him before her eyes widened in horror. Swiftly climbing off, she quietly, but profusely, apologized for taking such liberties. Paolo only smiled and told her to think nothing of it.

"I got you put on the inactive list for a couple of weeks, Anya. I am going to take you to Salerno, my hometown. I have a small flat there and we can take it easy for a while."

Anya started to panic. The last thing she wanted was to be useless, not after everything The Agency had done for her.

"No, no, please," she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. "Don't take me off the line! I can do anything they ask, just please don't let them take me off the line!"

Paolo brought her sobbing into his embrace and gently stroked her hair.

"Shhh," he whispered. "It's alright. Dr Bianchi cleared it with the Chief and he said to go ahead. We are not taking you off the line, just giving you a vacation, that's all."

Anya stopped sobbing and looked into Paolo's smiling face.

"Va-vacation?"

"Yep," Paolo replied happily. "We're going on a holiday. Have you ever seen the sea?"

"I-I don't know…I can't remember."

"This time, you will. I promise."

**The chapter title is by nine inch nails from "Further Down the Spiral".  
**


	13. Comfortably Numb

**"Comfortably Numb"**

The exfiltration helicopter met them near the Italian frontier and carried them into Rome. During the course of the exfil, Rebecca remained unusually quiet. She would say no more about the incident in the wine cellar except that she encountered the man, they struggled briefly, and Rebecca stabbed him to death then left.

After a lengthy and fully involved debriefing in front of The Chief and several of his lieutenants, David escorted Rebecca toward the infirmary to check on Anya's progress.

"I don't want to remember her anymore," Rebecca stated. Her voice carried a decided fatalistic tone that stirred a great deal of concern in David.

"I want to go in for more conditioning."

David said nothing. He knew that Rebecca's strong attachment to Anya could be liability if Anya did not survive. If Rebecca willingly submitted to further conditioning, that hamstring would be lessened or removed outright. While David knew that friends were important, Rebecca had to understand that her commitments to The Agency took priority over everything.

"If you feel it to be for the best," David trailed off. He had no desire to rob Rebecca of anymore of herself than had already been taken. At the same time, he had to keep the Agency's priorities in mind; Rebecca's well being did not factor very high in the grand scheme of things. He resolved then and there to take a more active role in her training; if necessary taking her to his former comrades with the 4th Alpini.

"Let's check on Anya before we take any drastic steps," David finished hopefully.

Rebecca turned the knob to Anya's recovery room.

Empty. All the cards, the book, flowers, Anya. Gone.

Rebecca sank to her knees and wept into her hands while David could do no more than hold her shoulders. By chance, Dr Bianchi walked past and looked in on the spectacle.

"Oh, haven't you heard?" he asked cheerfully.

David turned to face Bianchi

"No. Heard what?"

"Anya made a full recovery a couple of days ago while you were out," Bianchi continued. "Paolo took her to Salerno with The Chief's blessing for a two week holiday."

Rebecca stirred from her funk and turned her gaze to Dr Bianchi.

"She-she woke up?"

Bianchi nodded happily.

"Two days ago," he said. "I guess you didn't get the news."

Rebecca's face went completely blank and all emotion drained from her eyes.

"That's terrific news, Dr Bianchi," David interjected. "Thank you!"

Bianchi smiled at the two of them and went about his rounds.

Rebecca stood up finally and looked directly at David. Her eyes had lost all luster and she only smirked sadly.

"I have been so worked up about Anya the last few weeks, that I neglected my duties," she said. "I'm so sorry. If you want me to undergo more conditioning, I won't stop you."

"We'll not worry about that tonight," David said kindly. "You have earned your rest these past few weeks, just like Anya. Is there anything you want to do?"

Rebecca blinked at David a few times before formulating her answer.

"There is something I would like to do," she said at length. Her eyes regained some of their sparkle.

"Name it."

"Can you help me find a song?"

**A/N: "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd from The Wall. Now that Rebecca's sub arc is done, I will focus on Anya's.  
**


	14. Somewhere I Belong

**"Somewhere I Belong"**

Paolo sat on the beach outside of Salerno as he watched the waves…and the pretty girls…go by. Anya, afraid to swim for fear she would sink under the weight of her cybernetic enhancements, lay on a beach towel to Paolo's side watching him.

"Am I pretty?" she asked suddenly, breaking Paolo's reverie.

"I-wait, what?" was all Paolo could splutter out. This was unusually bold for an Agency cyborg, even one as "spoiled" as Anya.

"I asked you if you thought I was pretty," Anya said flatly.

Paolo returned his gaze towards the azure blue Tyrrhenian Sea and collected his thoughts.

"I think you are the prettiest girl anywhere," he said finally. He turned to Anya and smiled kindly.

Anya flushed and also turned her gaze to the sea.

"Why do you ask?" Paolo asked.

Anya shook her head slightly before turning back to face Paolo.

"I see you looking at all the women as they walk by, and I just wondered…"

Paolo did not like where this was going. Anya was already painfully aware of her imminent mortality and need not be reminded that she would not likely reach anything close to full adulthood. Seeing the women walking by only served to remind them both that Anya's internal clock was desperately short on time.

Frantically trying to gather his wits and stall for time, Paolo turned to Anya.

"S-say, how about you…I…we…"

Anya snapped from her own thoughts and gazed into Paolo's eyes and smiled.

"I want to explore your hometown," she said, rapidly changing subjects. "If that's okay with you."

Paolo let his jaw drop as he stared in puzzlement at his companion. Anya cocked her head slightly to the side in confusion.

"Do you not want to?" she asked.

"I…that is…yes, I would love to show you around," he laughed nervously. Already tripped up by her earlier questions, Paolo was now completely lost in Anya's thought processes and desperate for a way out.

"I am not sad," Anya stated flatly. "I knew I was going to die soon, even before I came here."

"Huh?"

"I'm grateful for the second chance I was given, even if my time is short," Anya continued, unaware of Paolo's mounting loss of direction.

"And I am especially grateful to have been partnered with you, Paolo."

Anya wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed gently. Letting him go, she seized his hand and led him, stumbling, off the beach.

* * *

That afternoon, the two found themselves enjoying a late lunch in the piazza. Anya had dragged Paolo from one point of interest to the next for three hours with no signs of fatigue. Paolo, for his part, kept up a cheery front, but was grateful for the time spent relaxing over Panini and coffee. Anya had been anxious to see the ruins of the coliseum and had saved the rest of the day for its exploration. A symphony featuring the works of Vivaldi was on offer that evening and Paolo suggested the two end their day listening to the concert.

* * *

By the time they reached his flat, Paolo felt ready to sleep for a week. Anya ran him to the point of collapse, and he was desperate for some rest. Anya, showing no signs of slowing down, continued to press for more action. He let himself fall face first onto the sofa while Anya fidgeted like a June bride.

"Anya," Paolo grumbled. "It is nearly midnight and we still have ten more days of vacation ahead. Pace yourself."

Saddened slightly, Anya sat on the settee and pouted slightly. Noticing this, Paolo groaned under his breath.

'This is what it's like with children,' he reminded himself silently. 'Hyperactive balls of kinetic energy.'

"I tell you what," he spoke at length. "I'll take you out to the wine country tomorrow. Would you like that?"

Anya perked up immediately.

"I would love to!"

"Good," Paolo said. "Now, go to sleep. I'm tired and you should be too. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so you need to be well rested, yes?"

Anya stood up, smiled broadly and thanked Paolo for a wonderful time.

"Yes, yes. Go to bed, kiddo," he said as his eyes closed for the last time.

**A/N: Fluff chapter! I had to to break the monotony of non-stop action. JK. As per usual, the chapter title this time is performed by Linkin Park from Meteora.  
**


	15. What a Wonderful World

**"What a Wonderful World"**

"I see trees of green, red roses too;"  
Secondo Capo Laroni and his detachment of operators from the Gruppo Operativo Incursori had been on the hunt through this blasted scrub for weeks. This was not God's country as he understood it; this was wasteland as far as the eye could see. Grey mountains, hard dirt and sand.

"I see them bloom, for me and you;"  
Another poppy field, another Taliban stronghold, another small time farmer trying to survive on drug profits.

"And I think to myself, what a wonderful world;"  
His father had recently passed away, leaving his aging mother and two younger brothers to worry about. His older sister, Patricia had met a nice man in the Alpini and was engaged to be married later that spring. Hopefully this man, David Petruccio, would take good care of her.

"I see skies of blue and clouds of white;"  
Another airstrike by the Americans scattered the roaches into the hills. He and his team had been sent on a search and destroy after them. Paolo would never forgive the Americans. He cursed their ineptitude and cowardly use of technology while sending others into harm's way to finish cleaning up.

"The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night;"  
He lost another man that morning and now missed him greatly. These Afghans were highly skilled and talented mountain fighters. The running gun battle had been carried out sporadically for several days. Even night offered no respite from the constant and irritating strikes. Now, Paolo envied the Americans and their use of pilotless drones.

"And I think to myself, what a wonderful world."  
Paolo missed Italy and resolved to retire once his enlistment was up.

"The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky;"  
Rain. Endless, drenching, soaking rain. It started three days ago and had not let up since. The men were despairing of the weather's effects on their equipment and morale. Paolo took to telling stories and jokes, but this too was wearing thin.

"Are also on the faces of people going by;"  
Another homeless boy running loose. Paolo had seen too many families torn apart by this war. One girl, horribly disfigured and burned, simply ran away when he tried to say hello.

"I see friends shaking hands saying, 'How do you do?'"  
The peasants hated them. Infidels. Invaders. The names and insults Paolo did not mind. It was the passivity and utter disregard with which he and his men were treated. Those that did not outright try to kill him, simply wished he would go away.

They're really saying, "I love You."  
The old man spat on Paolo as he and his men rested in the shade of a wrecked building. Paolo could not read his eyes, but could swear he saw either pity or fear in them.

"I see babies cry, I watch them grow;"  
More bodies this morning swinging in the village trees. The signs around their necks read "Collaborator" or "Traitor". The wives, mothers and children gathered and wailed; bemoaning their fates and despairing of their futures.

"They'll learn much more, than I'll ever know;"  
Their guide informed them that ruins they passed by had been a school for girls. The Americans, in their well-intentioned, yet somewhat naïve, Samaritanism, built it and encouraged all the local girls and women to attend. The Taliban retaliated with RPG's, heavy machine gun fire and Molotov cocktails. The girls lucky enough to die straight away were spared a far more horrible fate. The guide would speak no more, the tears leaked from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. Paolo had already seen the results of Taliban reaction to educating girls; he needed no further reminders.

"And I think to myself, What a Wonderful World;  
"Yes, I think to myself,  
"What a Wonderful World"

* * *

Anya only cried as Paolo finished his tale. She wanted to know what it would be like to have to kill someone in the line of duty, and Paolo told her everything. This was the life they both had to lead; his by choice, hers by design.

They were due back at The Agency in two days time, so had been packing their belongings for the return train to Rome. Now Anya fully understood Rebecca's reluctance to part with the details of her missions with David beyond the gloss over.

"I am sorry you had to hear all that, Anya," Paolo spoke softly. "I…"

Anya slowly shook her head.

"You don't have to apologize," she said. "I wanted-no-I had to know. Thank you."

Paolo turned away and stared out onto the darkening waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea. He enjoyed his time the past eleven days and was sorry to leave.

"We have an early train to catch, Anya," he said, turning back to his packing. "Let's finish this up and try and get some sleep, okay?"

Anya smiled and resumed her packing as well.

**A/N: Another downer chapter. If anyone caught what I did here, congratulations, you win a cookie. If not, go watch Good Morning, Vietnam, and everything will make sense. The chapter title and song lyrics within are by Louis "Satchmo" Armstrong.**


	16. Silly Filler

Silly filler

I am going to have to take another break in the story. Not because I am having trouble coming up with content but because I am working right now and time is short.

I hope to have something for you all within the next week or so, but time will tell


	17. Yours to Keep

**"Yours to Keep"**

Anya came home rested and ready for her next assignment. Though she felt a pang at the death of Henrietta earlier that month, she really felt little in the way of sorrow or loss.

Standing in front of her dormitory, she turned and hugged Paolo one last time.

"I had a wonderful time these past few weeks," Anya said. "I hope I was not a disappointment for you."

Paolo blushed slightly and scratched the back of his head.

"Ah, think nothing of it,' he said. "I was glad to do it."

Excusing himself, he was about to turn and leave, but instead looked his charge in the eye.

"We have a meeting with the chief tomorrow morning after breakfast," Paolo said. "Be ready by 8am."

Anya smiled and nodded dutifully.

A shout of joy and another splash of cold water greeted Anya as she opened the door to the dormitory.

"Дурачок!" Anya shouted at the top of her lungs as she took a wild swing at Rebecca. Dodging with easy grace and laughing like a maniac, Rebecca proceeded to lead Anya on a chase through the dorm halls. Triela poked her head into the hallway to find the source of her irritation squealing and laughing like, well, like kids.

"Will you two _PLEASE_ keep it quiet!" she bellowed. "I have a splitting headache and my period is worse than usual!"

Unsuccessfully suppressing giggles, Anya and Rebecca returned to their dorm room and sat on the throw rug to catch up on new gossip and news. Rebecca admitted, that upon hearing the news of Anya's recovery, she immediately set about on an appropriate welcome home gift, but settled on the water gag instead.

Shaking her hair out, Anya wrapped herself in a dry towel and hung her wet clothes over the window sill to dry in the late summer sun. Rebecca regaled Anya with tales of hard training at the hands of the 4th Alpini Regiment. David had suggested she meet up with his former colleagues for further training and physical conditioning.

"Oh, David helped me find this for you," Rebecca said, as she handed over a thumb drive. "I hope this helps you remember."

Anya took the thumb drive, curiosity clouding her features. She stood up and walked over to the computer, booted it up and connected the drive. The device held several files, one of which was labeled "For Anya." Opening the folder, Anya was presented with the soundtrack to "Breakfast Club" and a word document labeled, "lyrics"

Perusing the word doc, she ran across the lyrics to the song fragment lodged in her memory. Immediately connecting the lyrics to the song, she opened the MP3 player and opened the track by Simple Minds.

* * *

The girl sat on the porch swing, her father beside her.

"I know this is an American song, Sofia, but when I listen to it, it makes me think of my mother from when I was your age, before she went to Russia to marry my father."

The girl looked to her papa. She treasured these times together with him, alone on the porch. She got to spend precious few hours with him since he was always working so hard to provide for the family.

Sofia held the headphones to her head tightly, so as not to allow any sound to escape. She felt her papa's arms wrap themselves around her shoulder to ward off the encroaching evening chill.

"I like this song, papa," she said smiling. "What is it called?"

"Don't you forget about me," papa said.

"I can never forget you, papa," Sofia whispered. "Never ever ever."

* * *

Anya returned the headphones to the table, switched the computer off and stood up. Tears welled into her eyes and she sank to her knees sobbing. Rebecca rushed to Anya's side and tried her best to comfort her little sister.

**A/N: short chapter and kinda fluff. It is probably the weakest, but it fills a void. The chapter title is from Soft Machine by Teddybears feat. Neneh Cherry. I am thinking it is time to wrap this story up, maybe one or two more chapters.**


	18. The Last Remaining Light

**"The Last Remaining Light"**

The weather had turned cool, the wind now blowing in from the north; carrying hints of winter with it. The space heater in the corner had been dusted off earlier that week and placed near the foot of the bed. The bed's occupant lay on her side, wrapped up in the covers. She did not want to think about waking up, but it was already too late. The sun peeked in from behind a bank of clouds to bathe the room in a pale and weak light.

It was any other day…just another ordinary day…but she did not come home this time. The sad looks and condolences did little to soothe her anger and sadness. Her only friend-her one true friend in the whole world was not coming back-not this time.

The soft knocking at the door alerted her to the coming reality. She had prepared herself for this eventuality; asked for it, even. The sense of finality weighed on her young heart as she staggered to the door.

The man looked upon her with a sense of sadness and a hint of pity. The girl looked away and invited her guest in.

"I don't need your pity, David," the girl said sadly as she prepared tea.

"I apologize, Rebecca. It was not my intent to pity you."

"I only have one request," Rebecca said.

David nodded. He grew accustomed to Rebecca's odd favors.

"I don't want to remember anything," Rebecca said, tears welling in her eyes. "I should never have become so attached to Anya."

David cast his eyes to the floor. Rebecca had indeed become rather fond of Anya, taking care of her and teaching her the things she would need to survive an assassin's life.

Anya should never have been brought here, David thought. She was far too gentle a soul. It would have been far more merciful to let her join the rest of her family in death than to resurrect her and turn her into a literal killing machine. Paolo expressed these exact thoughts, far out of earshot for the Agency or its spies to hear. Upon Anya's death, Paolo refused another fratello and returned to the navy and accepted a commission as an officer.

Rebecca, though she proved to be very effective, still allowed her feelings for Anya to affect her judgment. The Chief expressed his displeasure to David on several occasions.

And now, Rebecca gave in to her despair. Rather than fight it off, she sought to try and escape by allowing herself to be further "conditioned", hoping that enough of her brain would melt to flee not just Anya, but her own demons as well.

In his heart, David indeed felt pity and sorrow for his charge, but would not allow the proud warrior sitting across the table to see it. He had consented, of course. Most handlers do at one time or another, even Giuse, though it killed him to see Henrietta become the lifeless doll she became before the end.

David checked his watch.

"It's time," he said.

He politely averted his attention and sipped his tea while Rebecca dressed.

**Fin**

**A/N: I hope you had a much…enjoyment…in reading this that I had in writing it (does that make me sound disturbed?) Anyway, thoughts and comments are always greatly appreciated. And, as always, this chapter's title is by Audioslave.**


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